


To The Highest Bidder

by Spunkybob5



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Businessman Dean, Candles, First Dates, Fluff, Foster Care, Human Castiel, Light Angst, M/M, Minor Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester, Musician Castiel, Philanthropy, Pie, Politician Sam, Romance, Sam Ships It, Sexting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-04
Updated: 2016-08-11
Packaged: 2018-07-12 07:19:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7091242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spunkybob5/pseuds/Spunkybob5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Dean attend a charity date auction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first AU. I do not have a firm story line in mind. It was supposed to be a one-off about a date auction. Apparently I am susceptible to peer pressure, and now we have a much more detailed plot.

“This is the dumbest thing you’ve ever asked me to do.”

Ellen sighed, facing Castiel as though he were a petulant child. “It’s for a good cause,” she reminded him, straightening his bowtie. “And you said yes months ago. Stop whining.”

“I’m not whining,” Castiel answered, tone completely contradicting his words. “I just don’t want to be offered up like meat to strangers.”

“For heaven’s sake, Castiel,” Ellen snapped. “This is an exclusive fundraiser. I’ve personally vetted every person on the guest list. You’re selling an evening of your time, not a lifetime of servitude.”

Castiel ran his hand through his hair. “I know, you’re right, of course you’re right,” he smiled weakly at Ellen. “I promise to be charming and captivating.”

“I know you will, Sweetie,” Ellen smiled back, a maternal hand on Castiel’s cheek. “And the famous Castiel Novak is going to be an expensive catch. We’ll be able to do so much good with the money you raise tonight.”

Castiel nodded, trying to strengthen his smile, “I’m honored to help. Really.”

Ellen stepped back, heading out to resume her hostess duties. “I’ll send someone to get you when it’s time, ok, Sweetie?”

“Absolutely,” Castiel answered. His smile didn’t waiver until the door closed behind Ellen. The moment he was alone, Castiel’s face crumpled. _God, I hate this. I hate being on display. Why did I agree to this?_ Castiel paced the small room. Being the surprise celebrity guest seemed glamorous until you realize it means not getting to talk to anyone for hours before stepping into the bright lights. The isolation did nothing to calm Castiel’s nerves.

If it had been for anyone else, any cause but Ellen’s, Castiel would have said no. He might have agreed to attend a charity date auction, but only to lend the spotlight that followed his fame to a worthy endeavor. He would not have participated in purchasing some poor sap for the privilege of an awkward evening together.

And he would never ever have allowed himself to be the one on the auction block.

Bile rose in Castiel’s throat. He sank into the plush chair, head in his hands, trying to steady his breathing.

_Get it together, Novak._

***

Dean tugged at the too-tight knot at his throat. He never should have let Sam tie it. _Probably payback for all the times I made his tie too tight._ The thought made him smile to himself.

Taking a sip of his champagne, Dean surveyed the room. He recognized many of the people in attendance, though, unlike Sam, he had rarely bothered to spend actual time with them. No, Dean didn’t know them as individuals. He categorized them – ally, enemy, friend, neutral, unknown. This event was full to bursting with powerful people that could influence Sam’s career. It was Dean’s job to know how.

Dean caught sight of Sam, chatting with Bobby Singer, famous Hollywood producer. Inwardly, Dean nodded his approval. During Sam’s first run for Senate, Bobby had been instrumental in conveying Sam’s earnest, honest personality. Dean had known the theory of a great campaign ad, but Bobby knew the mechanics, and with his help Sam’s TV spots sealed him the election. Bobby was both a formidable ally and a trusted friend.

Dean began to move along the wall of the ballroom, still sipping his drink. He hated these events, but Sam had begged. His wife, Eileen, was visiting her mother in England, and Sam did not want to come alone. He’d made a compelling case, reminding Dean that few causes were more important than the foster system in Kansas. Dean had relented. Arguing with Sam was futile anyway – probably why he’d been such a good lawyer.

And Dean did care deeply about the foster system. If their father had died a few weeks earlier, before Dean’s 18th birthday instead of just after, Dean and Sam would have ended up in it. Dean shuddered at the thought. _There but for the grace of God go I._ He was happy to support Ellen’s crusade to redesign the system, but a date auction? Ugh. The idea chaffed him.

“Dean Winchester.”

Dean paused, closing his eyes in a silent prayer for strength before turning to greet the woman who’d spoken, “Bela. What a surprise.”

Bela Talbot arched a perfectly sculpted eyebrow, “Really? I attend these events all the time. You’re the one out of place.”

Dean didn’t answer. There was no need.

Failing to get a rise out of Dean, Bela changed tactics, “Looking for someone new to sucker in with your charm? You can buy yourself a new victim tonight. Man or woman. Take your pick.”

Her barb landed, and Dean winced. “It wasn’t meant to be like that, Bela.”

She leaned forward, her manicured nails talons in his arm, “Wasn’t like what, Dean? Wasn’t like you led me on and dropped me when I was of no use to Sam’s image?” Her grip tightened painfully. “Because that’s certainly how it looked.”

Dean shook her off, stepping back, “That was always your problem, Bela. You were only interested in how things look.” Dean turned and disappeared into the crowd. He moved quickly, looking for a familiar face, any distraction from his conversation with Bela.

“Hey, Dean.”

Dean turned abruptly, almost crashing into Chuck Shurley. Sam helped Chuck with a plagiarism case a few years back, and the brothers had stayed in touch with the author. Chuck was a good man, if a little nervous, and while not terribly political, he was always willing to support a worthy cause.

Dean had never been so happy to see anyone.

“Hey, Chuck!” he said with too much enthusiasm. “How are things?”

Chuck blinked, surprised by the intensity of Dean’s greeting. “Um, good, I guess,” he replied. “What’s wrong with you?”

Dean sighed, scrubbing his hand over his face. He flagged down a waitress, replacing his empty champagne flute with a blessedly full one. “Bela’s here.”

“Oh, man, I’m sorry,” Chuck clucked sympathetically. “That woman is a shark.”

“Yeah,” Dean muttered. “I attract them.”

“You do, man. Guess that’s the problem with having a job that makes you seem like a shark, too.”

“Wait, what? Is that how you see me?”

“Me? No!” Chuck squawked. “But some people do. I mean, Sam is the shiny face on everything, but you’re the guy who does what needs to be done, you know?” Chuck shifted uncomfortably. “And like attracts like, so…”

“Huh,” Dean took a long pull of the champagne, suddenly wishing it was something much stronger. “That explains a lot, actually.”

“Sorry,” Chuck repeated.

Dean smiled wanly, “Don’t be. What brings you here tonight?”

“Oh!” Chuck grinned, pleased with the topic change. “I’m for sale.”

Before Dean could organize his thoughts enough to respond, a small blond woman materialized next to them. “Mr. Shurley? Ms. Harvelle needs you to head backstage. The auction starts in 15 minutes.”

“Thanks, Becky,” Chuck turned to go. “See you later, Dean. And hey, if my bids are low, do you think you and Sam could drive up the price? I don’t want to be the cheapest guy in the room, you know?”

“Sure, Chuck, no problem,” Dean answered. He stood there for a moment, blinking after his friend. _What a weird night. I gotta find Sam._

***

“Finally, ladies and gentlemen, the moment you’ve all been waiting for…”

Castiel took a deep breath, screwing a charming grin on his face while he remained hidden in the off-stage shadows.

“Our surprise celebrity guest, Mr. Castiel Novak!”

Castiel stepped into the blinding spotlight, pausing to shake the hand of the burley Master of Ceremonies before lifting his arm in a warm greeting to the raucous crowd. He walked the length of the stage, blowing kisses and offering small waves to indistinguishable faces. As the screams waned, Castiel strode to the center of the stage and posed, feet shoulder width apart, hands clasped together at his waist. He lifted his chin, letting the lights catch his bright blue eyes and highlight the day-old stubble across his strong jaw.

“Mr. Novak is a Grammy Award-winning country artist, and a born and bred Kansas boy! His bio tells us Castiel is a Leo. He enjoys sunsets, long walks in cornfields, and frisky men.”

Castiel waggled his eyebrows at the crowd, sending them into fits of laughter.

“Let’s start the bidding at twenty thousand.” The figure crept up steadily as bids came in from around the room. “I have twenty-eight, can I get thirty? Thirty, from the young lady in the back! How about thirty-two…?

Castiel did his part, seductively licking his lips, smacking his own ass, and just generally trying to make himself seem fun. _I may not actually_ be _fun, but I can fake it for a night._

The bids were starting to slow. “Forty-one? I have forty-one from Ms. Milton, can I get forty-two? Anyone? All right, going once, going tw-“

“Forty-five!”

The crowd murmured, straining to see who the new bidder was.

“Senator Winchester!” The MC chuckled, “I think your wife might object to you buying yourself a date, brother.”

The senator laughed, “Not my date, Benny. A gift.”

“For Eileen?”

“Castiel is way too hot to risk offering to my wife,” Sam laughed again. “No, my brother, Dean.”

Castiel’s breath caught. He knew of the Winchester brothers; everyone did. He’d even contributed to Sam’s campaign, though anonymously. As a rule, Castiel didn’t participate directly in politics beyond voting, but he did pay attention. Sam Winchester had a reputation as a good man who wanted to do good things in the world, and his record, both as a lawyer and a private citizen, held up. But what had really impressed Castiel was Sam’s reaction when the media outed Sam’s brother as bi.

An arsonist had set a fire in a factory, causing explosions that killed sixteen and wounded dozens more, including rescue workers. Sam and his brother had gone to the scene, offering comfort and help where they could. Unlike a lot of politicians doing photo ops, Sam and Dean showed up in t-shirts and jeans. They’d brought water bottles and snacks, passing them out to weary firefighters and frightened factory workers. When Sam had stepped in front of the cameras late that night, he was sweaty, dirty, tired, and sad. His comments to the press had reflected as much.

Then a reporter had the gall to ask, “Senator, your brother Dean was seen last night kissing a man in front of a popular Wichita restaurant. Did you know your bother was gay?”

Sam had gone rigid. His eyes flicked to Dean and the camera followed, catching Dean give a weary shrug. “Dean isn’t gay. He’s bi.”

“Do you think this is something you should have revealed to your constituents? How do you justify lying to the public?”

“Are you freaking kidding me? People have _died_ , lady, lots of people, and your concern is that my brother kissed his date? Let me lay it out for you – Dean can date anyone he likes. I don’t care,” Sam paused, running his fingers through his hair. “No, that’s not true. I care that whoever he ends up with is good and true and kind and loves him as he deserves. But whether it’s a man, woman, or leprechaun doesn’t matter to me one damn bit. You guys all get that?” he snapped at the rest of the press. “Because this is the _only_ conversation we are ever going to have about it. Eyes on the ball, people.”

Sam had stalked off then, finding his way to Dean, who laid a comforting hand on his little bother’s shoulder. Castiel had replayed the conversation on YouTube dozens of times, enthralled. He was envious of Dean, having family that loved him so unconditionally. Castiel had done some research on the brothers after that, and harbored a secret crush on Dean ever since.

And now the Winchesters were bidding on him.

“All right, then. Folks, I have forty-five thousand. Can I get forty-six?”

Castiel was pulled back to the present as the bidding started up again. A woman in the crowd seemed to have taken Sam’s gift for Dean as a personal challenge, and the price spiked rapidly.

“Eighty thousand!” the woman with the British accent cried.

The crowd froze. The silence stretched.

“Sam?” the MC prompted, dropping all pretense of this being an open auction.

“Eighty-five,” the senator sounded completely confident.

“Ms. Talbot?”

A pause. Then, “Too rich for my blood, I’m afraid. Enjoy your date, Dean.”

The gavel came down, “Sold to the Winchesters for eighty-five thousand dollars!”

The crowd went nuts. Castiel bowed low, blew a kiss in the direction of the Winchesters, and got the hell off the stage.

***

By the time Dean found Sam, the lights had dimmed and Benny Lafitte, head of the Wichita police department and tonight’s Master of Ceremonies, had taken the stage. “Hey,” Dean murmured.

“Hey! Where’ve you been?”

“I saw Bela. And Chuck,” Dean answered, snagging another champagne flute from a circulating waiter.

Sam’s brow furrowed, “Together?”

“No! God, no. That would be weird.”

“Extremely weird,” Sam agreed. “You ok?”

“Yeah, peachy,” Dean took a pull of the champagne. “Oh, listen. Chuck is up for auction. He asked us to help drive up the price.”

“Chuck is…wow. Good for him. I would never have suspected he’d do something like this.”

“Me, neither,” Dean said. “But do you know anyone that can say no to Ellen?”

Sam chuckled, “I do not.”

The brothers found seats and settled in to watch the auction. Six men and six women were on the block tonight. Dean recognized most of them, either by face or name, though none really interested him. Chuck was the fourth man to go, and as promised, Dean and Sam pushed up the price before bowing out to Pamela Barnes, the beautiful and slightly scary chair of the hospital board.

“Chuck’s going to have his hands full on that date,” Dean grinned. He was proud of Chuck, though. He’d raised the most money so far, twenty-two thousand dollars.

“Who do you think the mystery guest is?” Sam asked, propping his long legs up on the chair next to him.

“Dude, put your feet down! You’re a senator, for heaven’s sake, not a teenager!” Dean hissed. Sam shot him a bitch face, but complied. “I don’t know who it is. I don’t really care.”

The gavel struck, signaling the final bid on an up and coming popstar. Benny grinned at the crowd, “Finally, ladies and gentlemen, the moment you’ve all been waiting for, our surprise celebrity guest, Mr. Castiel Novak!”

Dean’s jaw dropped, “Sam. Oh my god, Sam. It’s him. It’s _Castiel freakin’ Novak_.”

“Yes, Dean, I can see that.”

Dean couldn’t breathe. He’d had a crush on Castiel since his first single was released. Dean loved the way Castiel’s gravelly voice caressed notes, was haunted by those intense blue eyes, related to every word he sang. In fact, Castiel was the first man Dean had really lusted over, and the main reason Dean was able to admit his sexuality to himself.

And now he was just across the room.

“Sam. Oh my god, Sam. He’s wearing cowboy boots.”

Sam laughed, “I forgot you had a thing for those!”

“Mmm hmm,” Dean managed.

“Do you want him?”

“What?” Dean dragged his eyes from his crush to look at his brother.

“Do you want him?” Sam repeated, eyes dancing.

“What? No! That would be…” Dean’s voice died in his throat. _Amazing. A fantasy come to life._

“Yeah, I’m getting him for you.” Sam sat forward and raised his arm, “Forty-five!”

“Senator Winchester!” Benny chuckled, “I think your wife might object to you buying yourself a date, brother.”

Sam laughed, “Not my date, Benny. A gift.”

“For Eileen?”

“Castiel is way too hot to risk offering to my wife,” Sam laughed again, punching Dean in the arm. “No, my brother, Dean.”

“I’m going to kill you, Sam,” Dean mumbled, covering his face with his hands.

Sam’s admission caused a new flurry of bidding. It tapered off at around fifty-five, and Dean thought that might be the end of it, until he heard a distinctive British accent call, “Fifty-seven!”

Sam’s head whipped around, “Is that Bela? Is she bidding against me?”

Dean swallowed, “She might, ah, know about my thing for Castiel. She might also, ah, not want me to be happy.”

“Bitch,” Sam muttered. “Sixty-two!”

The bidding ping ponged back and forth between Sam and Bela. Dean knew he should protest, he should ask Sam to stop this craziness and just let it go. But every time he opened his mouth to object, he caught another glimpse of the hottest man he’d ever seen standing on the stage, and the words just wouldn’t come.

“Eighty thousand!” Bela snapped.

Sam grinned and leaned back. “That’s all she’s got, Dean. Eighty grand is always her limit,” he whispered. “Eighty-five!” he called.

Dean’s held his breath, not really hearing Bela’s taunt. He didn’t breathe until Benny dropped the gavel, “Sold to the Winchesters for eighty-five thousand dollars!” Dean watched as his date blew him a kiss and strode off the stage.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK. You win. Another chapter. And what better way to deal with not having a complete date in mind than to not send them on a date? It's pending, I promise. Also, this is getting super fluffy. I've decided that while this story may develop real angst, it won't be between Cas and Dean. Those two need good things.
> 
> Please note the change in rating. Not for kids anymore. (Although, who reads Destiel fanfic to their kids? Is that a thing?)
> 
> (Ignore me. It's late.)

Dean stared at his computer, fingers tapping nervously on his desk. He reread the email from Ellen for the umpteenth time: _Thank you for your generous contribution to Roadhouse Foster Charities! Your gift helps improve the lives of children in foster care. In addition to your donation, an anonymous benefactor has matched your $85,000.00. We could not be more thankful! Your date awaits. Castiel Novak’s contact information is 316-555-2242. Please let us know how it goes. Enjoy!_

Dean flicked his gaze to his phone, resting next to his antsy fingers. He’d gotten as far as saving Castiel’s number in his phone. All he needed to do was click on it, and he’d be connected to the man of his dreams.

 _Well, no._ Dean amended. _Probably his assistant or something. A guy like Castiel almost certainly has someone answer the phone for him. And schedule his many dates._

Dean stood abruptly, circling his office, still staring at the phone like it might leap off the desk and bite him. It was stupid - he knew it was stupid to be this nervous. After the auction, he’d barely been able to shake hands with Castiel before the crowds of fans had swallowed him. Still, that scant contact seemed burned into his skin. Even now, he felt like his hand was tingling with the sensation of Castiel’s guitar-callused palm in his.

_Man up, Winchester. It’s just a phone call._

Dean crossed to his desk. Taking a steading breath, he picked up his phone. He thumbed to his contacts, selected Castiel…and dropped his phone with a shriek and a clatter as it started ringing.

Dean glanced around furtively, checking to see if anyone saw his graceless behavior. No one had. Dean picked up his phone, checking for cracks. The screen was fine.

No. The screen was better than fine.

The screen showed an incoming call from Castiel Novak.

Dean swiped to answer, “Hello?”

“Hello,” answered the gravelly voice that fueled Dean’s very best dreams. “Is this Dean?”

“Yes! Hi, yes, this is he. Him. This is – I am Dean.” _Smooth, Winchester._ “Is this Castiel?”

“Yes, this is Castiel,” the voice chuckled. “I’m just calling to schedule our date.”

“Yes! Good, that’s great, we should do that,” Dean stuttered. “Holy shit, I promise I’m not usually this much of a mess.”

“Do I make you nervous, Dean?”

“No! Well, yes. Yes, Castiel, you make me nervous.”

Dean could hear the smile in Castiel’s voice, “Why is that? I can’t possibly be the first musician you’ve met.”

“No, but you are the sexiest,” Dean answered, feeling gutsy. _You’ve already made a fool of yourself. Might as well go for broke._

“That…is very smooth, Dean Winchester.”

“Not even a line, Castiel Novak,” Dean grinned.

“Hmm. Well, let’s get this date set so you can charm me in person.”

Dean sank into his chair, bringing up his calendar on the computer. “How about Saturday? Unless that’s too soon. Is that too soon? I know you travel a lot. I don’t even know where you live. Are you even in Kansas anymore?”

Castiel chuckled, “Yes, Toto, I’m still in Kansas.”

Dean groaned, “Seriously, I’m much more articulate than this.”

“I know you are, Dean.”

“Wait – how do you know that?”

“Um,” Castiel paused. “What kind of Kansan would I be if I didn’t know the Winchester brothers?”

“Nice save, Cas, but Sam is the famous one,” Dean challenged.

“’Cas?’”

“What?”

“You called me ‘Cas,’” Castiel clarified.

“Oh. Yeah. I shorten names. Is that ok?”

“I like it. No one ever calls me by a nickname.”

“Cas is it, then,” Dean grinned. “So, Saturday?”

“That’s fine. I’m free all day. I have a place just north of Topeka.”

“Perfect. I’m in Topeka this week for work.”

“Is there a time I should expect you, Dean?”

Dean leaned back in his chair, “Well, that depends. What do you want to do? I mean, we can do the standard dinner and a movie type date, but I wasn’t sure if you’d want to do anything so public.”

“Well, ordinarily privacy would be nice, but I think if our date gives the Roadhouse some publicity, we should probably let ourselves be seen,” Castiel said.

“Good point,” Dean considered that. “I have an idea. Let me mull it over, and I’ll text you a time, ok?”

“Sounds good. I’m looking forward to seeing you Saturday, Dean,” Castiel said shyly.

Dean’s heart fluttered, “Me, too, Cas. Have a good rest of your day.”

“Goodbye, Dean.”

***

Castiel stared at the phone. His call log said he’d only talked to Dean for a few minutes, but his heart was racing like he’d just run a marathon.

Dean had been nothing like he’d expected. Most of what he’d seen of the elder Winchester in the media was polished and serious. The man on the phone had been sincere and sweet, like a kid with his first crush. Dean wasn’t the first person to call Castiel sexy, but he was the first in a long time that made Castiel blush.

Castiel was still staring at the now black screen of his phone when it lit up to notify him of a text. Castiel’s heart started pounding again. It was from Dean. He opened the message and read it twice before he let himself grin.

_Dean: Hey, Cas. I know I sounded like an idiot, but I was just so excited to actually get to talk to you. I’m gonna take you on the best date ever, promise._

_Castiel: You didn’t sound like an idiot. I was excited to talk to you, too._

_Dean: Really?_

_Castiel: Really._

_Dean: I’m blushing. And I gotta go to a meeting. You’re gonna be the death of me, Cas._

_Castiel: But what a way to go, right?_

_Dean: Absolutely! I’ll text you later._

_Castiel: Until then._

Castiel set down his phone, still grinning. He spent the rest of the morning grinning, actually. He grinned all through his workout. He grinned all through the conference call between his agent and his publicist. He was still grinning as he sat down in his studio to work on his next album.

The song he was composing suddenly seemed too dreary, and Castiel found himself working on a new one. Staccato notes in a major key danced along the treble clef, unlike anything Castiel had written before. It only took him an hour to lay down an entire melody, definitely a record for him. Castiel hummed the tune, pleased with how it managed to be both surprising and sing-able. Lyrics began to tumble through his mind, stories of first crushes and new loves.

Yes, Castiel spent the entire day grinning. He was just getting into bed, the kind of peaceful tired that comes from a productive day catching up to him, when his phone chirped.

_Dean: Hey, Cas. Sorry I didn’t get back to you today. Meetings and shit. People needed things. I don’t even know if you’re still up._

_Castiel: Hello, Dean. I’m still awake, but I am in bed._

_Dean: …Seriously, Cas, you’re killing me._

Castiel laughed.

_Castiel: Please don’t die. Not until I’ve had the best date ever._

_Dean: I always keep my promises._

_Castiel: I believe you._

_Dean: Sweet dreams, Cas._

_Castiel: To you as well, Dean._

***

Dean set his phone on the nightstand and headed to the bathroom, stripping off his clothes as he went. His day had been excruciatingly long, made more so by the fact that all he wanted to do was spend the day chatting with Castiel. What he needed now was a long, hot shower.

Or maybe a cold one.

Because Castiel, holy shit. That man’s voice…it seemed to rumble through the phone, into Dean’s ear, and straight to his cock. Dean had spent the entire day in a state of low-level arousal, all because of that damn voice.

Dean stepped into the shower. He intended to get clean and get to bed, but his body had a different plan. Before he realized it, images of Castiel flooded his mind, and Dean was stroking his cock. Dean was hard almost instantly. Castiel Novak was hardly new material for Dean, but now…now he could plainly see Cas, full lips wrapped around his cock, moaning in that deep voice. Dean shivered at the imagined vibrations, running the length of his cock, pulsing through his balls. He came suddenly and hard, painting the walls of his shower. Dean stood for a few minutes, trembling. He felt a little guilty, getting off to Castiel. Dean liked the guy. Maybe he shouldn’t objectify him like that.

Dean stepped back into his bedroom, towel rubbing the last of the moisture from his hair when he noticed his phone blinking. Swiping it open, Dean found a text from Castiel. Any residual guilt Dean felt about cumming to the thought of Castiel vanished.

_Castiel: By the way, the answer to your unasked question? I don’t own any pajamas._

Dean swallowed, his cock twitching.

_Dean: Does that mean what I think it means?_

_Castiel: What do you think it means?_

_Dean: Cas._

_Castiel: Yes, Dean?_

_Dean: Don’t tease._

_Castiel: I would never._

_Dean: So you sleep naked?_

_Castiel: I do. Do you?_

_Dean: Only when I have company._

_Castiel: Good to know. Do you have company tonight?_

_Dean: Nope._

_Castiel: I can’t decide whether or not to be disappointed._

Dean grinned.

_Dean: What’s the matter, Cas? Don’t like to share?_

_Castiel: I do not. But I do like the idea of you sleeping without pajamas. It’s a dilemma._

_Dean: Luckily for you, I’m all about problem solving._

_Castiel: Oh? And what’s tonight’s solution?_

_Dean: I will sleep naked tonight. Hell, I’ll sleep naked every night between now and our date. IF._

_Castiel: IF?_

Dean paused. If what? What did he want from Castiel that wasn’t too forward? He was already getting a date and some innocent sexting. What else is there?

Dean’s phone chimed again.

_Castiel: Don’t leave me hanging, Dean. IF?_

_Dean: Shit, Cas, I don’t know. This is already more than I imagined I’d get._

Dean’s phone was quiet a long time. Long enough that he wondered if Castiel had fallen asleep. Dean stripped off his pajamas and slid into bed, the sheets cool against his skin. He laid there, debating between turning off the light and getting his book when the phone chimed again.

_Castiel: You are very sweet, Dean. I’m not sure I’m worthy of this much enthusiasm._

_Dean: Oh, I’ll show you enthusiasm, baby. ;-)_

_Dean: Seriously, Cas, I’ve had a crush on you forever. Why do you think Sam bid so much?_

_Castiel: I’ve had a crush on you, too, Dean._

_Dean: On ME?? How did that even happen?_

_Castiel: I’ll tell you on our date. I promise._

_Dean: I know what I want in exchange for sleeping naked._

_Castiel: Do tell._

_Dean: A recording of you talking. I don’t even care what you say. You can read the dictionary for all I care. I just love your voice._

_Castiel: This makes the texting pretty ironic, Dean._

_Dean: Yeah. I know._

_Castiel: I can do that. I’ll have it for you Saturday. Deal?_

_Dean: Deal. Night, Cas._

_Castiel: Good night, Dean._

Dean plugged his phone into its charger and turned off the light. He couldn’t ever remember being this forward with a crush or this excited about a date. Dean grinned into the dark. Sam was always telling him to lighten up, have some fun. Maybe this qualified.

***

Castiel set his phone the nightstand, a fresh grin on his lips. He found Dean utterly charming. Hell, more than that. He was smitten.

Castiel turned off the light and snuggled deeper into the bed. For the first time in a long time, it felt empty. Castiel’s mind wandered, imagining what it would be like to have Dean here with him. Not in a sexual way – though Castiel was very much interested in that, too – but just to be near him. To hold someone and be held.

Castiel sighed. He’d never had a relationship like that. It was probably foolish to hope anything would materialize with Dean.

On the other hand, Dean had made his interest clear, albeit in a seventh grade dance kind of way. And Castiel found himself reciprocating in ways he never had before. Castiel was a public figure. He didn’t text or email or tweet or chat anything he wouldn’t want the world to see. But tonight, he’d initiated the sexting. And yes, it was mild, but it was more than he’d ever done before.

With a start, Castiel realized he didn’t just like Dean, he trusted him.

That was new.

Castiel rolled back over, reaching for his phone in the dark. He squinted when the screen lit up, temporarily blinding him. He scrolled through his contacts until he found Ellen’s number.

_Castiel: Hi, Ellen. I know it’s late, but I wondered if tomorrow you could help me get a hold of Senator Winchester? Thanks!_

Text sent, Castiel dropped his phone back on the nightstand. If he was going to record himself talking for Dean, he was going to do it right.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look! Another chapter! Go me!
> 
> The date became absurdly long, so that is now two chapters instead of one. I won't leave you hanging, I promise.
> 
> Please note: I've switched the warning tags. Castiel has suffered some rape and abuse in his past. We aren't going to talk about it, like, at all, but if you're easily triggered, skip the paragraph where they talk about his time in foster care.

The week passed swiftly. Castiel was in a perpetually good mood, probably brought on by the regular texts he received from Dean. Some of them were ridiculous: _Do you think birds consider dried up worms on the sidewalk jerky?_ Some of them were more serious: _Heading to the University of Kansas for a meeting tonight. Have to show support for stricter date-rape laws. Why do people suck, Cas?_

Every text showed Castiel a little more about Dean. He was warm, creative, thoughtful, brilliant, funny, driven, and kind. Dean clearly wore his heart on his sleeve, and Castiel tried to honor that by being honest in return. Castiel had spent his whole life trying desperately to appear as though he understood the world around him. He didn’t want fake it with Dean.

The first time Castiel had the option to be honest came when Dean mentioned preparations for a small bi-partisan dinner Sam was hosting next month.

_Dean: Just about got the seating arrangements figured out. It’s so unnecessarily complicated._

_Castiel: Why is that?_

_Dean: Well, they might all be in a room together, but we gotta be careful not to cross the streams, you know?_

Castiel paused, staring at the text. ‘Cross the streams?’ What streams? He almost glossed over it in his mind, but decided against it. Taking a deep breath, he texted back.

_Castiel: I don’t understand that reference._

_Dean: You know, like from_ Ghostbusters?

_Castiel: Ah. I’ve not seen that movie._

_Dean: YOU HAVEN’T SEEN_ GHOSTBUSTERS?? _How is that even a possibility?_

_Castiel: I haven’t seen a lot of movies from our childhood, I’m afraid._

_Dean: So…_ Goonies? Dirty Dancing? Sandlot? Jurassic Park? Raiders? Star Wars?

 _Castiel: I saw a_ Star Wars.

_Dean: Which one?_

_Castiel: I’m not sure. There was a large alien with a ridiculous accent…_

_Dean: Dude. No. Jar Jar does not count as having seen_ Star Wars.

_Castiel: I’m sorry._

_Dean: Why are you sorry?_

_Castiel: Because I can’t share in those references with you?_

_Dean: Cas, are you kidding? Now I get to rewatch all the best movies ever AND with someone who is experiencing them for the first time! This is awesome! We’re going to start on Saturday._

Castiel had stared at his phone for a long time after that. That one text completely melted his heart. Dean had accepted his ignorance without judgement or mockery. He offered to help Castiel overcome it in the future. And…he seemed excited about that promised time. One on level, Castiel knew a flippant suggestion to watch old movies together hardly meant anything. But he couldn’t help the warmth that bloomed through his chest. Dean accepted him just as he was, and that was amazing.

It was also the first hint Castiel had gotten about their date.

The date that starts in 14 minutes.

Castiel stood nervously in his front hallway, staring at his reflection in the mirror. He’d styled his hair half a dozen times, trying to perfect the artfully messy look. He checked his teeth – nothing stuck there. Castiel ran his hands down his outfit, making sure he hadn’t spilled any coffee on himself. He opened his bag again, confirming he’d included nicer shoes with his change of clothes. Finally, Castiel triple-checked he packed the recording he’d promised Dean.

Eight minutes.

***

Dean pulled up to Castiel’s house with four minutes to spare. It was a nice house in a nice neighborhood, but certainly didn’t have the opulence Dean expected from the home of a superstar like Castiel. To be fair, nothing about Castiel had been what Dean expected.

Which only made Dean like him more.

Dean strode up the walk to Castiel’s front door, fussing at his clothes as he went. He ran his hands through his hair one final time, took a deep breath, and rang the bell. The door opened, and Dean was struck dumb. Castiel was even more gorgeous in the light of day. His eyes were the same color as the clear sky, enhanced by the dark chocolate color of his perpetually sexed-up hair and the two day old stubble across his strong jaw. His lips were pale and full…and moving. Shit. Castiel was talking. _Head in the game, Winchester._

“Hello, Dean.”

“Hey, Cas! Ready for the best date ever?”

A shy smile tugged at Castiel’s mouth, “Yes, I believe I am.”

“Here, let me take your bag,” Dean offered.

“Thank you,” Castiel handed the bag to Dean, then closed and locked the door. “I’m quite curious about our agenda today.”

Dean grinned, “Well, since it’s noon, I thought we’d start with lunch.”

“That sounds nice.” Castiel stopped, running his hand over the frame of the black vehicle parked in front of his home, “Is this your car?”

“Yup. ’67 Impala. Rebuilt her myself.”

“She’s beautiful,” Castiel murmured.

“She’s my Baby,” Dean dropped Castiel’s bag in the trunk before opening Castiel’s door. “Hop in.”

“Such a gentleman.”

Dean blushed, “I try.”

They pulled away from the curb, talking idly about the gorgeous October weather Kansas was having. Dean turned west on route 24, taking them out of town.

“Where are we going?”

“I told you. Lunch.”

Castiel frowned, “There are not a lot of restaurants out this way.”

Dean grinned, turning off 24 and heading north. “I know.” He followed the signs for about ten minutes before turning into a lot marked ‘Korn Maize.’ “We’re here.”

“A corn maze? They have food here?”

“Well, no, not usually, but you said you liked long walks in cornfields and I thought…” Dean’s explanation died on his lips at Castiel’s puzzled expression.

“When did I say that?”

Dean cleared his throat, “It was in your bio. At the auction? Is this not – I mean, do you not want – Shit, is this stupid?”

Castiel tilted his head, then burst out laughing, “I said I like long walks in cornfields because I’m from Kansas and we don’t have any beaches.” He took a deep breath, trying to stop his laughter and only mostly succeeding. “But this isn’t stupid. Not at all. In fact, it might be the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me.” Castiel laid a hand on Dean’s arm, “Thank you, Dean.”

Dean found himself getting lost in Castiel’s earnest expression, “It’s no problem, Cas. C’mon, let’s find our lunch.”

“Will we have to brave the maze to find our food?”

“Nah,” Dean led the way to the ticket booth. “I like eating too much to delay a meal any more than necessary.”

Dean greeted the girl at the booth, “Hello. Reservations for Winchester, please.”

The girl straightened, beaming, “Yes sir. Everything is all set for you. I have a map with the most direct route marked. Do you need anything else?”

“Nope, that should do it, thanks.”

The girl waved them through the gate, “Enjoy your date!”

Dean unfolded the map and frowned, “This is complicated, even with the route marked.”

Castiel peered over his shoulder, “It’s not that bad. May I?”

“Sure. Lead the way, Cas.”

They journeyed deeper into the maze. Dean was lost pretty quickly, partially because it’s, you know, a _maze_ , and therefore confusing by nature, but mostly because he was hyper-aware of Castiel’s arm brushing against his with every pace. Dean also found himself completely charmed by the way Castiel murmured and hummed to himself at each intersection, talking himself through the choices. Plus the cute way Castiel’s brow furrowed when he was thinking. And the insanely sexy way his tongue absently dragged over his chapped lips… _Holy shit, Winchester. You got it bad._

“Should be right up here,” Castiel pointed, pulling Dean from his increasingly inappropriate thoughts.

They rounded the corner and met with a gate marked ‘Private.’ “Allow me,” Dean stepped forward, opening the gate and signaling his date to step through.

“Dean,” Castiel breathed.

Spread before them was a picnic right out of a storybook. A large, plaid blanket covered the ground. In the center was a basket of flowers, artfully arranged to look careless. Surrounding that was their meal – fried chicken, golden cornbread, vibrant salad, and fudgy brownies. To the side of the blanket was a metal bucket filled with ice, chilling water and Castiel’s favorite brand of beer.

***

Castiel stared at the picnic, tears pricking his eyes. His mind flashed to an interview he’d given years ago. He’d been asked to describe the perfect date, and without really giving it much thought, had suggested an intimate picnic.

Exactly like the one before him.

Dean nudged him, “Come on, let’s sit down. You want a beer?”

Castiel nodded, settling himself gingerly on the blanket. He accepted the beer, offering Dean a watery smile.

Dean frowned, “Hey, are you ok?”

“I am better than ok,” Castiel gave a watery laugh. “This is…amazing, Dean. I’m touched. Truly.”

Dean ducked his head, blushing, “It’s no big deal. Anyone would do it.”

“No. I can assure you, they would not,” Castiel shook his head. “Especially not for some guy they bought at a date auction.”

“You aren’t just ‘some guy,’ Cas.”

Dean looked straight into his eyes, and Castiel found himself unable – or unwilling – to look away. Finally, Dean coughed, breaking the spell, “Let’s get you some food.”

They tucked into their lunch, which was delicious. After some vigorous chewing, Dean spoke up, “So, how _did_ you end up for sale at the auction? I mean, I’ve followed your career for a long time, and you’ve never done anything like that before.”

Castiel raised an eyebrow, “You’ve followed my career?”

Dean turned pink, “I said I was a fan. And don’t change the subject.”

Castiel considered Dean for a moment. It would be easy to brush off the question, but he found he didn’t want to. He wanted to let Dean in. Castiel took a deep breath, “Ellen…she’s the closest thing to a mother I’ve ever had.”

“You were in the system,” it wasn’t a question, but Dean’s voice held neither judgement nor pity.

Castiel nodded, “I never knew my mother. I’m not even sure I had one. And my dad, he just took off one day. My brothers tried to keep us together, but…being in charge of a household, it tore them apart. I ended up in foster care three days after my thirteenth birthday.”

Dean just nodded, encouraging Castiel to continue.

“I bounced around a lot, and I was 13, scrawny, and gay. It wasn’t…I was an easy target. It wasn’t a good situation. Ever,” Castiel’s voice caught. “Ellen heard about me. I ended up at the Roadhouse when I was 16. I was a mess, and she helped me.”

Dean reached over, placing his hand over Castiel’s, “I’m glad you found a safe place. What happened to your brothers?”

“I lost touch with them pretty quickly, but when I started making money, I put some resources into finding them. Gabe – he was killed trying to stop a mugging. Ralph became a crime boss and was assassinated. Luke is doing a life sentence. Michael was in prison for a while, too, but I’ve not been able to find anything about him since he was released.”

Dean’s grip tightened on Castiel’s hand, and Castiel found himself gripping back. “That’s a shame, Cas, it really is. But on the bright side,” Dean smiled, “now you can build yourself the family you deserve.”

Castiel stared at Dean. Of all the responses people have had to his story, this was a first. “I’ve never thought of it that way,” Castiel said slowly. “I’m not sure I know how to do that.”

Dean shrugged, “It’s not like you have to figure it out today. Besides, today is about perfect dates. Brownie?”

Castiel chuckled, the heaviness of their conversation dissipated. He accepted the offered pastry and took a big bite, “These are amazing!”

“Thanks!” Dean grinned. “I made them myself.”

“You did?”

“Absolutely,” Dean leaned towards Castiel, green eyes sparkling. “I’m telling you, man. I’m a catch.”

Castiel laughed, “I’ve thought that about you for years.”

“Hey, yeah! You were going to tell me how someone like you ended up with a crush on someone like me.”

“Well, you remember that factory explosion?”

Dean blinked, “Um, yeah?”

“That was the night you came out.”

“Oh, yeah, I guess it was. Damn, Sam was pissed,” Dean said.

Castiel nodded, “I watched the interview. Actually, I watched the interview repeatedly. I was so impressed, even envious, that you had family that loved you so much. So I researched you both. And the more I learned about the kind of man you are, Dean, the more I liked you.”

Dean was scarlet now, “I’m nothing special, Cas.”

“Of course you’re special, Dean,” Castiel was firm. “And it did not hurt at all that you are literally the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.”

“Yeah, well,” Dean cleared his throat. “People always seem prettier on camera.”

Castiel leaned into Dean’s space, surprised at his own boldness, “Maybe so, Dean. But _you_ are even more attractive in real life.”

***

Dean couldn’t breathe. He was pretty sure Castiel Novak was going to kiss him. Dean’s gaze flicked between the deep blue of Castiel’s eyes and the plump pink of his lips. Then Castiel leaned forward the last inch, and Dean saw only stars.

It was a chaste kiss, brief, but more than enough to make Dean’s head spin. Castiel pulled away, a small smile on his face. Dean smiled back.

“I hope that wasn’t too forward,” Castiel murmured, his already gravelly voice pitched impossibly low.

Dean swallowed, “No. Not – no. That was perfect. Just, so perfect. You’re perfect. I mean –“ Dean closed his eyes, dropping his forehead against Castiel’s. “I was eloquent before I met you, Cas.”

Castiel chuckled, “You’re adorable when you’re flustered.”

“Oh, shut up,” Dean laughed. He reluctantly pulled back. “We need to get going, though. The next part of our date awaits.”

“There’s more?”

“Castiel. I have a shot to take my dream man on his dream date. There is no way I am stopping at a picnic.”

Castiel laughed.

They stood, gathering up their trash. Dean instructed Castiel not to worry about anything; he’d arranged for the same people who laid out their picnic to clean up behind them. Dean noticed Castiel brushing his fingertips over the soft petals of the flowers.

Dean stepped into Castiel’s space, laying a hand at the small of his back, “The flowers are for you, Cas. If you want them.”

Castiel looked up at Dean, blue eyes wide, “I’ve never had a date get me flowers. Thank you, Dean.”

“It’s my pleasure, Cas, really,” Dean bent down, scooping up the bouquet. “But I’m carrying them out of here so you can take the map and navigate.”

Castiel smiled, “Deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any references to the geography of Kansas come from the satellite imagery Google provides. I've lived a lot of places, but Kansas isn't among them.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK, how do you people update twice a week? I'm in awe of you. I'm never gonna be that person, so if you subscribe to me in any way...I'm really sorry about that. But good news - the next chapter makes me happy, and I mostly have it in my head, so it shouldn't take AS long to write.
> 
> But don't look for two in one week. I don't want to get your hopes up. ;-)

Dean was still struggling to believe this day was real. He cast another slide-long glance at Castiel. Even in profile, he was captivating. Castiel wore a small smile as he caressed the petals of his bouquet. It made Dean’s gut twist. Such a small gesture of kindness shouldn’t matter this deeply.

Dean couldn’t remember the last time he’d enjoyed getting to know someone this much. Most of the time, he was focused on Sam’s career, and every relationship was through that lens. But not once had Castiel mentioned Dean’s powerful brother. Instead, he was expressly interested in Dean. He never failed to ask about Dean’s day and always seemed to have time to thoughtfully answer all of the random thoughts Dean sent his way. Dean had never felt this special before – and that was when their relationship was largely texts. Castiel was a sweet, kind man – funny, smart, talented, the whole package. He deserved to feel as special as he made Dean feel.

“So, I gotta ask,” Dean said finally. “How is it no one has ever gotten you flowers?”

Castiel shrugged, “I get them from fans all the time. But not dates.”

“But…you’re…” Dean stammered. “How does that even happen?”

“I’ve never really analyzed it, but if I had to hazard a guess, I’d say it’s because people want the fancy music star to spoil them, not the other way around,” Castiel answered. He didn’t sound bitter, just resigned.

That simply would not do.

Dean reached across the seat, taking Castiel’s hand. He lifted it to his lips, brushing a gentle kiss across the knuckles. Castiel let out a soft huff of breath, and Dean smiled into his skin. “I’m really glad I get to be the one to take care of you, Cas. Even if it’s just for one day.”

Castiel blushed, the pink in his cheeks highlighting the vibrant blue of his eyes. He squeezed Dean’s hand and cleared his throat, “So, where are we headed now?”

Dean grinned, lowering their hands to the seat. He didn’t let go, though, “Do you want to guess? I did give you a hint.”

Castiel tilted his head, “Are we going to a movie?”

“You pay way too much attention to what I say, Cas,” Dean chuckled. “Yes, it’s a movie.”

“It’s hard to ignore such captivating thoughts, Dean. No one has ever presented the concept of worm jerky to me before. It was life changing.”

Dean laughed so hard he nearly ran off the road, “I do what I can. Smart ass.”

“My ass does have many redeeming qualities,” Castiel agreed.

“That it does.”

They drove the rest of the way to the theater in companionable silence, hands still intertwined. A few minutes later, Dean steered the Impala into the parking lot of a theater that played classic movies. Dean climbed out of the car, stretching. He turned in time to see Castiel carefully situating the bouquet on the floor of the car.

“You ready, Cas?” Dean held out his hand.

Castiel smiled, taking the offered hand, “Ready.”

They strolled into the theatre. Dean had reserved tickets here, too. “I’ll grab the tickets, and I’m gonna get some popcorn. Do you want anything, Cas?”

“I wouldn’t say no to some Bit O’Honey if they have it.”

“Got it. Anything to drink?”

“Just a water is fine. Thank you, Dean.”

Dean dropped Castiel’s hand. Navigating the lines was easier without him in tow, but Dean already missed the contact. He glanced over his shoulder, watching Castiel disappear into the restroom. Even that fleeting glimpse made his heart swell. _Yeah, you got it bad, Winchester. But I think he’s worth it._

***

Castiel washed his hands slowly, taking a moment to check his reflection and collect himself. He’d managed to get through the picnic without getting any food or dirt on himself, which was a miracle.

Really, the whole date was a miracle.

Castiel couldn’t get over how hard Dean had worked to design a day specifically for him. In his entire life, no one had ever done that. It’s not that the people in his life were unkind, and while Castiel didn’t have a ton of friends, those he had were thoughtful people. But an entire day revolving around him? Not so much. Not ever.

And on top of being generous and thoughtful, Dean was an excellent kisser. _I really want to keep him._

Sparing once last glance in the mirror, Castiel returned to the lobby. He spotted Dean immediately, laden with snacks. Castiel grinned, “That is a huge tub of popcorn.”

Dean grinned back, “It’s the only way to get the commemorative bucket.”

“Here, let me carry some of that,” Castiel took his water and candy from Dean. “So what movie are we seeing?”

Dean’s hands remained full, even without Castiel’s food. “Actually, if you could grab the tickets, that would be great. Right rear pocket,” Dean turned, allowing Castiel access to his ass.

Castiel carefully extracted the tickets, resisting the urge to cop a feel, “ _Ghostbusters?_ ”

“It’s time to start your pop culture education, Cas. _Ghostbusters_ today. Next time, _Dirty Dancing_ ,” Dean said, leading the way to the ticket taker.

A few moments later, Castiel and Dean settled into the theater. The first ghost startled Castiel, and Dean chuckled, wrapping an arm around Castiel and pulling him close, “Don’t worry, Cas. I won’t let them get you. I ain’t afraid of no ghosts.”

Castiel shivered at Dean’s warm breath in his ear, and leaned into his date. The movie was ridiculous and fun, but the best part was Dean’s soothing touches every time Castiel jumped. When it ended, they stood and stretched.

“So, what did you think?” Dean asked.

“It was silly. I enjoyed it. I can see why so many of our peers reference it.”

“It’s definitely a classic,” Dean agreed.

They walked back to the Impala, Dean’s hand finding Castiel’s again. Castiel smiled, warmth blooming through his chest. He’d had plenty of dates eager to show off their relationship in front of the cameras, but not many that still initiated this type of affection when they were alone.

Once in the car, Dean tossed his bucket in the back and checked the time, “OK, we have about an hour and a half before our reservations. I’m thinking that’s just about the right amount of time to stop at my place, change into our monkey suits, and get to the restaurant. Maybe grab a drink at the bar before we’re seated. Sound good?”

“Yes, of course.”

The drive to Dean’s wasn’t too long, maybe 20 minutes. Most of it was spent in silence, holding hands and stealing glances at each other when they thought the other wasn’t looking. Once the Impala was tucked safely in Dean’s designated spot, Dean grabbed Castiel’s bag and led the way to his apartment.

Castiel wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but this apartment wasn’t it. The place was sleek and sterile, all hard edges and stainless steel. It was also smaller than Castiel was expecting. A quick glance around showed the undersized living space gave way to a short hallway. There were four doors – Castiel guessed two bedrooms, a bathroom, and a closet. “This is your apartment?” Castiel couldn’t quite keep the surprise from his voice.

“Yeah. Well,” Dean amended. “It’s where I stay when I’m in Topeka. I don’t really think of it as home. It’s just…where my stuff sits, you know?”

Castiel nodded, “I do know. I feel that way about my place in LA. It’s just where I go when I can’t go home.” Castiel couldn’t quite keep the bite of disappointment away. While he completely understood the intricacies of having more than one place to live, he’d been looking forward to a glimpse into how Dean lived. This apartment clearly wasn’t Dean’s home. _Well, we’ll just have to spend more time at my house._

_Wait, what?_

Castiel was pulled from his thoughts as Dean handed over his bag. “You can use the guest bedroom to change. Second door on the right. Bathroom is next door,” Dean pointed.

“Thank you, Dean.”

***

Dean watched Castiel shut himself in the bedroom before scrubbing his hands over his face and through his hair. He needed to change, too, but he was frozen in place by the weight of having Castiel in his space. 

He hadn’t been lying when he’d said this apartment wasn’t really home. The appliances and furniture all came with the apartment. He hadn’t painted or hung up art. Aside from the handful of books on his nightstand, there was nothing in the place that said ‘Dean.’

For the first time, the realization made him sad.

Something about being here with Castiel made Dean want to…well…nest. He wanted to bake pies and cuddle under blankets and read the paper on the couch while playing footsie.

Dean shook himself. You’ve only known the guy a week. Cool it. He headed to his bedroom, changing quickly. At the last moment, he swapped out the pale pink shirt he’d chosen for one that was sapphire blue. He decided to forgo the tie in favor of opening an extra button on the shirt. Dean shrugged into the jacket and evaluated himself the mirror. The crisp steel-gray suit accentuated his broad shoulders and narrow waist. The vibrant shirt highlighted his jade green eyes and the slight blush that colored his cheeks every time he thought of Castiel.

Satisfied that he looked good, Dean headed back towards the living room. Castiel was already there, leaning over the counter. He straightened when Dean approached, and Dean felt all the air rush from his lungs.

Castiel was gorgeous.

Black jeans laid low and snug on his hips. A lightweight jade green sweater stretched across his strong chest. Dean imagined it clung to his shoulders the same way, but that view was hidden by the softest looking charcoal gray motorcycle jacket Dean had ever seen.

Holy shit.

Dean swallowed hard, trying to make his throat work. “You, uh…you look amazing.”

Castiel smiled, eyes roving over Dean, “You as well.”

Dean crossed the room in two strides. His hands landed on Castiel’s hips. He felt strong fingers weave into the hair on the back of his neck as his lips met Castiel’s. Someone moaned – Dean’s not sure who – and Dean was overwhelmed with sensation – Castiel tasted like honey, he smelled of leather and sex, his stubble scraped against Dean’s jaw, he made soft breathy sounds with every kiss, and when Dean opened his eyes, the blue of Castiel’s made everything else fade to gray.

With every ounce of self-control he had, Dean pulled his lips from Castiel’s, eliciting a sound that could only be described as a whine. Dean felt a surge of satisfaction. It was almost enough to make him forget dinner and spend the rest of the night wrapped up in Castiel.

Dean settled for resting his forehead against Castiel’s and leaving their bodies pressed tightly together. He took a deep breath, “We should, um, go.”

Castiel swallowed, “Yes. For the Roadhouse.” He didn’t move.

“Right. The Roadhouse,” Dean indulged in one last, sweet kiss, then pulled away. “I guess we should go.”

Dean held Castiel’s hand all the way to the car. He didn’t trust himself to speak until they were pulling out of the garage. “I just want you to know,” Dean’s voice was soft. “I’m not here for the publicity. I have more than enough of that. I just – I like you.”

“Likewise, Dean.”

They didn’t talk the rest of the way to the restaurant, probably because they were too busy smiling to form words. Dean turned to Castiel as they pulled up to valet parking, “You ready?”

Castiel rolled his shoulders and ran his hand over his face, “As I’ll ever be.”

They stepped out of the Impala, assaulted immediately by the flashes of cameras and shouts of paparazzi. Dean passed the keys to the valet with explicit instructions to be careful before joining Castiel. The Scene was the restaurant in Topeka. There wasn’t a lot of highlife in Kansas, but what there was congregated at The Scene.

Castiel was already charming the reporters. “Yes, the date auction was a new experience for me. I’ve never done anything like it.” He paused, listening to a question Dean couldn’t hear, “Of course, Kate, it was an honor to be purchased by the Winchester brothers.”

“The honor is all mine,” Dean interrupted, placing a hand on Castiel’s shoulder.

Castiel shot him a small smile before turning back to the reporter.

“Mr. Winchester,” Kate began, thrusting her microphone at Dean. “I understand you donated $85,000 to the Roadhouse Foster Charities. What inspired that level of generosity?”

“I can’t take credit for that. My brother thought I needed a night out, and he’s always been the generous one,” Dean answered. “And I get a date with the most dashing star country music has to offer. No, the truly generous person is the benefactor who anonymously matched the donation. It couldn’t go to a better cause. The Roadhouse has been changing the lives of kids in foster care for decades. It’s a privilege to help any way I can.”

“Castiel,” Another reporter cut in, sticking his microphone inches from Castiel’s nose. “I understand you were once in the care of the Roadhouse. It’s well known the Roadhouse specializes in the most damaged children. What led you to your stay there?”

Castiel blinked, trying to compose himself, “It’s no secret that I was in foster care.”

“Yes, but the details of your time –“

“I’m sorry, but Castiel and I are going to miss our reservations. You all have a nice evening,” Dean tightened his hand on Castiel’s shoulder, steering him away from the paparazzi.

Once inside, Castiel took a deep breath, “Thank you, Dean.”

“Anytime, Cas.”

The two were immediately led to their table by a perky hostess. They barely had time to order their drinks before they were inundated with people vying for their attention. The governor was first, chatting up Dean about a bill he was looking to pass. He was followed by a couple of socialites who desperately wanted a selfie with Castiel. The basketball coach for the Jayhawks was next, encouraging the men to spend a game courtside. The museum curator, two CEOs, a lobbyist, and a local representative all stopped to schmooze. They’d been at the restaurant nearly an hour and barely been able to look at their menus.

Finally, Dean and Castiel were left alone. Dean opened his menu, “I’m starving.”

Castiel chuckled, “I remember why I don’t go out in public anymore. It’s a lot of work.”

They settled into an easy rhythm, discussing the menu and gently teasing each other. Somewhere in there they managed to order their meal. Dean was just starting to relax and enjoy himself when he heard a voice that made his blood run cold.

“Dean Winchester.”

Dean closed his eyes, “Bela. What a surprise.”

“I believe we’ve established that you are the one out of place,” Bela offered a perfectly manicured hand to Castiel. “Mr. Novak. I’m Bela Talbot. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m a big fan.”

“Hello,” Castiel hesitated a moment before accepting the offered handshake. “How do you two know each other?”

“Bela is one of the finest publicists in the business. She worked on Sam’s campaign,” Dean explained.

“Dean, don’t leave out our most important connection,” Bela chided. She turned back to Castiel. “Dean and I were…intimate.”

Castiel’s brow furrowed.

“We only went on a couple dates, Bela,” Dean said.

“Yes, well,” Bela continued to talk to Castiel. “We could have been more, but Dean has commitment issues. Oh, he’s very charming at first, but he just doesn’t have it in him to go the distance.”

Dean felt his insides clench. He held his breath, mind spinning, looking for a way to defend himself. _I am so screwed._

Castiel narrowed his eyes. “I see. Well, relationships require a lot of emotional investment,” He glanced at Dean before locking eyes on Bela.

Dean didn’t miss the flash of triumph on Bela’s face.

“Dean is a busy man. It only makes sense he wouldn’t waste his efforts on someone who was unworthy of his time.”

Bela’s jaw dropped. “How dare you –" She sputtered.

“It was a pleasure meeting you, Ms. Talbot. Have a nice evening,” Castiel turned back to Dean, clearly dismissing her.

Dean couldn’t help the grin that spread over his features.

Bela turned on her heel, stomping back to her table.

Dean reached across the table, laying his hand over Castiel’s, “Thank you.”

***

“You’re welcome, Dean,” Castiel smiled, seeing the relief in Dean’s eyes. “No offense, but your ex is a bitch.”

Dean threw his head back and laughed. The rich sound warmed Castiel to his core. “She is indeed,” Dean agreed. “But I definitely don’t want to talk about her.”

Castiel leaned forward, “What would you like to talk about?”

“You. How’s it feel to be the most popular man in the restaurant with the selfie crowd?”

Now it was Castiel’s turn to laugh, “You’re a shit, Dean Winchester.”

The rest of the meal passed pleasantly. The conversation was easy, the food was delicious, and Castiel was enjoying himself more than he had in years. Castiel would have been happy to linger indefinitely, but as the waitress cleared their plates, Dean ordered pie.

Castiel’s heart sank. He wasn’t ready for the date to be over. Perhaps Dean was.

“Oh, and sweetheart? Make that pie to go.”

Castiel smiled, despite his disappointment, “You might be the only person I know that can call a waitress sweetheart and not come off as creepy.”

“What can I say? I’m naturally charming,” Dean smiled back. “You up for one more stop, Cas?”

“There’s more?” Castiel was genuinely surprised.

“Dude,” Dean said, taking the check from the waitress. “Best date ever, remember?”

“Dean,” Castiel’s voice was thick. “This has already been so much better than any date I’ve ever had before.”

“See, that’s disappointing, Cas. All we’ve really done is have a picnic, go a movie, and share a dinner. That really shouldn’t be the best date you’ve ever had,” Dean flashed a cocky grin. “Next time, I will blow your mind.”

Castiel couldn’t pass that up. He dropped his voice, “I look forward to that.”

Dean choked on his water.

“Here’s your pie, sir. Thank you for coming. Have a nice evening!”

Castiel smiled at the waitress while Dean sputtered, “Thank you. I hope the rest of your night goes smoothly.”

She graced him with a megawatt smile and scampered off.

“Dammit, Cas. Don’t say stuff like that!”

Castiel raised an eyebrow, “You don’t like it?”

“No, Cas, I actually have the exact opposite problem,” Dean stood, shaking his head. “Let’s get out of here.”

Back outside, Castiel signed a few autographs while they waited for the valet. He was chatting with a couple of teenaged girls when Dean appeared at his elbow, “You ready, superstar?”

“Yes, Dean.” Castiel smiled at the girls, “Have a good night, ladies. Oh, and can you keep a secret?”

Giggle, “Of course!”

Castiel leaned in conspiratorially, “My next album will be out in two months, and it will feature a completely new sound. Will you check it out?”

More giggles, “We can’t wait!”

“Thanks so much. Be safe this evening!” Castiel followed Dean to the Impala.

Dean opened the passenger side door and Castiel slid into the seat, carefully avoiding stepping on the bouquet. He glanced up as Dean settled onto the seat next to him, “Where to now?”

Dean smiled, reaching out to brush an imaginary crumb from Castiel’s chin, “Back to the beginning.”

Castiel watched as night bloomed through Topeka. It was safe city, and the pleasantly warm October lured many people to the streets this evening. Tonight, the couples walking hand-in-hand caught Castiel’s attention. Typically, that type of casual PDA wasn’t even on his radar, but tonight Castiel found himself watching wistfully.

“What are you thinking about?”

Castiel turned to Dean, studying him. For a moment, he considered lying, or just brushing the question aside. But once again, Castiel found himself wanting to be totally honest with Dean. “I was,” Castiel licked his lips. “I was thinking about all the things I’ve never gotten to have. Relationship-wise.”

“Yeah,” Dean murmured. “Me, too.”

They were quiet for a moment. “By the way,” Dean started, clearly trying to lighten the mood. “You were really great with those girls.”

Castiel shrugged, “The best part of fame is getting to brighten someone’s day. Which reminds me,” He reached over the seat, rummaging through his bag. “This is for you, as promised.”

“Hey! My CD!” Dean grinned. “Did you read me the dictionary?”

“The abridged version. You’re going to have to sleep naked more than five nights if you want the whole English language.”

“Promises, promises, Cas,” Dean laughed. “Seriously, though, thanks a lot. I really appreciate it. I’m driving to DC next week – I’m totally going to listen to this in the car.”

Castiel smiled, “I think you’ll like it.”

“I know I will,” Dean slid his hand back over Castiel’s. “We’re almost there.”

Castiel glanced out the window, “The corn maze again?”

Dean grabbed the pie, “Yup. Come on.” Castiel followed Dean back towards the maze. The girl in the booth waved them through, but Dean paused. “Do you, uh, have the map still?”

“Yes, Dean,” Castiel hid his smile, pulling the folded map from his pocket. He led them back through the maze to the now familiar ‘Private’ gate. Dean pushed it open, leading Castiel inside.

The space had been transformed. The picnic been replaced with a nest of blankets and pillows. Candles (electric, of course) dotted the space – enough to add ambiance, but not enough to compete with the starlight. To the side sat an ice bucket with chilling Champagne.

“Dean,” Castiel breathed. “Best. Date. Ever.”

Dean tugged Castiel over to the nest, “Make yourself comfortable. You want something to drink?”

“Not yet, thank you, Dean.”

“All right,” Dean set the pie carefully next to the ice bucket, then settled next to Castiel, throwing a fuzzy blanket over them both and opening his arm in invitation for Castiel to slide close.

Castiel accepted, snuggling into Dean’s warmth.

“Just so you know, this was supposed to cap off your bio. You know, the part about liking sunsets? But dinner took longer than expected.”

“Hmm. This is nice, too.”

“Yeah,” Dean pressed a gentle kiss into Castiel’s hair. They laid in silence for a while, until, “Cas?”

“Yes, Dean?”

“In the car, you said you were thinking about all the things you missed out on…”

“Yes?”

“What is it – I mean…um,” Dean licked his lips. “What are you looking for in a relationship?”

Castiel considered that, “Well, when I was younger I wanted excitement and adventure. I wanted to be swept off my feet. But now, that doesn’t appeal to me at all.”

“You don’t want adventure and excitement?”

“I do, I guess. But mostly I want trust. Domesticity. Commitment. I want to build a life with someone, not just…have great sex and fun night out, you know?”

“Yeah,” Dean’s fingers carded through Castiel’s dark hair. “I do know.”

Castiel glanced up, blushing, “I’m sorry. That’s probably too deep for a first date.”

“Nah, Cas. I asked,” Dean propped himself up on his elbow, fingertips tracing Castiel’s jaw.

Castiel shivered.

Dean dropped his lips, pausing just above Castiel’s, meeting his eyes for a moment before kissing him deeply. He pulled back, “Cas…Best. Date. Ever.”

“Dean.”

“Yeah, Cas?”

“Shut up and kiss me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I appreciate everyone who commented and helped me gain direction for this story. Props to Pandora904 for the idea of the corn maze. The whole thing spiraled from there. Feel free to keep sharing your thoughts!


	5. The CD

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!
> 
> I think this is the last of this verse. I may flesh out things in the future, and if so, it will become a series.
> 
> The formatting for this was a pain. If it's unclear what's happening, please let me know, and I'll reevaluate.

“Cas, this isn’t the first time I’ve made this drive,” Dean tucked his phone between his ear and his shoulder while he laid his garment bag across the trunk. “I will be fine.”

“This may not be your first trip, Dean, but this is my first opportunity to worry about it,” Castiel huffed. “At its best, this trip is 16 hours and 45 minutes. That’s a long time to drive alone.”

Dean grinned into the phone, “Cas, did you Google the route?”

“Of course I did, Dean. I want you to be prepared.”

Dean slammed the Impala’s trunk and headed towards the house to grab the rest of his stuff, “I _am_ prepared, dude. It’s 5 o’clock now. I’m going to get four hours of driving in this evening, stop at my favorite motel for the night, drive about eight hours tomorrow, stop at my other favorite motel for the night, and be in DC by Sunday afternoon.”

“I just don’t…” Castiel’s voice faded.

“What was that?” Dean swept his eyes over the apartment, grabbing his laptop and travel mug from the counter.

“Nothing.”

Dean raised an eyebrow, turning his focus to the phone, “C’mon, Cas. Talk to me.”

Castiel sighed, “I’m just…disappointed you’re leaving.” He was quiet for a moment, and Dean could picture him fidgeting. “Have I known you long enough to miss you when you’re gone?”

Dean swallowed hard. “Yes,” his voice was softer then he meant it to be, and Dean cleared his throat. “I’ll call you when I get there tonight, OK? And tomorrow night, and Sunday night.”

“I would like that,” Castiel said shyly.

“Good,” Dean locked his door and headed back to the Impala. “Because you don’t really have a choice.”

Castiel laughed, and Dean’s heart fluttered.

“All right, I’m gonna hit the road.”

“Do you have the CD I made you?”

Dean smiled, “Already in the player. You’re keeping me company this trip, Cas.”

***

**Eleven Days Earlier**

“Castiel!” Sam’s warm voice filled the phone. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Castiel smiled to himself. Sam had the same easy kindness that he’d experienced in his conversation with Dean. “First, I wanted to thank you for your donation to the Roadhouse. That was very generous of you,” Castiel answered.

“It was a privilege to be invited. And I got to do something nice for Dean, which he almost never allows.”

“Yes, actually, that’s why I’m calling. I had a nice chat with Dean yesterday, and we got to texting.”

“Did you now?” Castiel could hear the joy in Sam’s voice.

“Yes,” Castiel nodded, even though Sam couldn’t see it. “We made a deal, and my assignment is to make him a CD. I wondered if you could give me some insight as to what music Dean appreciates.”

“I can absolutely do that,” Sam answered. “But you gotta tell me – what’s his end?”

“His end?”

“Of the deal, Castiel. What’s Dean doing in exchange for the CD?”

“Oh,” Castiel blushed. “Um…nothing much.”

Sam chuckled, “Come on, man. Dean loves your voice. He’d do just about anything to hear it. Besides, as the younger sibling, it’s my right to know everything embarrassing about my brother.”

“Well,” Castiel swallowed. “He’s, um, sleeping naked every night until our date.”

Sam’s laughter was so loud Castiel had to pull the phone from his ear.

“Whose idea was that?” Sam finally choked out.

“Dean’s, actually.”

“Ah, Castiel. Today is a good day. I’m going to tell you anything you want to know.”

***

**Present**

Dean pulled out to the highway, letting the purr of the Impala’s engine wash over him. His thoughts drifted immediately to Castiel. Not a day had gone by since their first phone call that they hadn’t at least exchanged texts. Dean was starting to rely on Castiel to help him get through the day.

It should freak him out.

In the past, it would have. But something about Castiel…Dean found the whole relationship comforting.

Dean sighed. _I’ve been on the road 20 minutes, and I already miss him._

With a shake of his head, Dean pushed play on the CD player.

“Hello, Dean. As promised, I compiled a CD for you. 85 minutes of unbroken dictionary readings,” Castiel cleared his throat. “’Aardvark. Noun. A large burrowing nocturnal mammal (Orycteropus afer) of sub-Saharan Africa that has a long snout, extensible tongue, powerful claws, large ears, and heavy tail and feeds especially on termites and ants.’ Fascinating. ‘Aardwolf. Noun. A maned striped nocturnal mammal (Proteles cristatus) of southern and eastern Africa that resembles the related hyenas and feeds chiefly on insects and especially termites.’ Are those extinct? I’ve never heard of them.”

Dean heard a thump on the CD.

“That’s enough of that. I’m not actually going to read the dictionary. I called Sam. I wanted to ensure I included music you want to hear. Sam says you’ve been a fan of mine since my very first single. I have an acoustical arrangement of that song I’ve never released. Would you like to hear it?”

“Yes!” Dean shouted.

“All right.”

Muffled rustling drifted through the speakers, followed by the scrape of guitar strings.

“As promised, _Sunset Gray_.”

Dean twisted the knob on the stereo as the first notes played. Instead of cords, Castiel plucked a string or two at a time, giving the already melancholy song a wistful, folksy feel.

> “Silence  
>  is deafening  
>  all I hear is pain
> 
> “Dark  
>  all around  
>  can’t see past the void
> 
> “Broken  
>  so alone  
>  a cage of your design
> 
> “I ache but I’m empty  
>  wholly torn  
>  You’ve proven I’ve one use  
>  can’t even mourn
> 
> “My life is a sunset  
>  vibrance swept away  
>  Nothing but a sunset  
>  colors turned to gray
> 
> “Lost  
>  in a cage  
>  built of necessity
> 
> “Forced  
>  to retreat  
>  so I might survive
> 
> “I scream but there’s no sound  
>  buried deep  
>  You’ve stolen my power  
>  with secrets I keep
> 
> “My life is a sunset  
>  vibrance swept away  
>  Nothing but a sunset  
>  colors turned to gray  
>  Not even a sunset  
>  there is no new day.”

Dean felt tears streaming down his cheeks as Castiel strummed the last cords. He’d always loved that song. The acceptance of a life that will never be full of light spoke to Dean. He found it comforting to know other people understood. But now, knowing more about Castiel’s past, the song shook him to his core.

“I wrote that song at an ugly time in my life. I never planned to share it with anyone, and I certainly didn’t think I would perform it. I’m not this man anymore, Dean. I want you to know that. I still love the song, though. It reminds me of how far I’ve come.”

There was a pause in the recording. Dean wiped the wetness from his eyes. Castiel may not see his life as darkness anymore, but Dean knew he was a long way from standing in the light.

“’Baa. Verb. To make the bleat of a sheep.’ I cannot fathom why this is in the dictionary. Who doesn’t know this? So odd. Speaking of odd…Sam tells me you prefer classic rock, but that I am not the only country artist you enjoy.”

“Dammit, Sam.”

“That first song was pretty heavy, Dean. I think it is in our best interest to Shake It Off. Unfortunately, there is no way I can replicate Taylor’s pleasant soprano, so you will have to settle for a dramatic reading.”

Dean chuckled as Castiel cleared his throat.

> “I stay up too late.  
>  Got nothing in my brain.  
>  That is what people say.  
>  Mmm. Mmm…”

The longer Castiel read, the harder Dean laughed, until Castiel started the ‘rap’ verse – 

> “Hey. Hey. Hey.  
>  Just think.  
>  While you’ve been getting down –“ 

and Dean had to actually pull off the road until he could stop shaking.

“Ah, Taylor. She speaks to my inner 14 year old. Which is good. Someone should. I have a confession to make, Dean. I actually listen to very little country myself.”

Dean raised his eyebrows, pulling back onto the road.

“I have fairly eclectic tastes. I have a few classic rock songs on my play list, little of which I can do justice to on an acoustic guitar. Which is why I have downloaded an unnecessarily large amount of karaoke. I shall now attempt to replicate Whitesnake.”

Dean grinned as the opening strains of ‘Here I Go Again’ filled the speakers. As much as Dean loved listening to Castiel, he couldn’t help but join him for the chorus.

> “Here I go again on my own  
>  Goin' down the only road I've ever known  
>  Like a drifter I was born to walk alone  
>  An' I've made up my mind, I ain't wasting no more time…”

The CD continued like that, random songs Castiel enjoyed intercut with definitions of obscure words. Dean didn’t know all the songs, but Castiel sang each with passion, and that was more than enough.

“We’re almost to the end of this mystical musical journey. Our date is tomorrow. I’m a tad nervous, but mostly excited. Even if nothing comes of our time together beyond this week, I want you to know, Dean, that I have enjoyed getting to know you immensely. You are an extraordinary person.”

The same folksy-style guitar Castiel had used for his first single filled the Impala. Dean, narrowed his eyes, trying to place the melody. He got it a moment before Castiel’s rich base filled the car.

> “Carry on my wayward son,  
>  There'll be peace when you are done  
>  Lay your weary head to rest  
>  Don't you cry no more…”

Castiel sang sweetly, as though it was a lullaby or prayer. Dean’s eyes pricked with fresh tears. He’d always loved this song, but the gentle way Castiel brought it to life gave it an entirely new meaning.

Castiel gave a lot of things new meaning.

The song ended, and there was another rustle on the CD.

“’Zyzzogeton. Noun. A taxonomic genus within the family Cicadellidae — South American leaf-hoppers.’ That is the very last word in the dictionary. Who knew?”

Dean chucked. He would have to remember to thank Castiel for the vocabulary lesson.

“This is the last song, Dean. I’ve an album coming out in a few months, and I believe this will be the first single. I’ve never written anything quite so peppy before. I hope you like it. It’s called _Vibrant_.”

A joyous sound tumbled from the speakers, a far cry from the minor key of Castiel’s first single. Dean found himself tapping his toe almost immediately.

> “My soul is blowing bubbles  
>  Laughter written on my face  
>  Staccato bursts of vibrant color  
>  Lighting up this dismal place.
> 
> “I’m dancing to the dawn  
>  Soft lips kissing the sunrise  
>  Bright rays of joy filling me inside  
>  Freed all ways by this surprise.
> 
> “I’m turning old crushes into new loves  
>  All the darkness chased away  
>  I’m feeling old crushes become new loves  
>  Tears receding with the dawn of this new day.
> 
> “My heart is spinning circles  
>  My eyes sparkle with my grin  
>  Safe and cozy in my cheerful mind  
>  Need to share the joy within.
> 
> “I’m turning old crushes into new loves  
>  All the darkness chased away  
>  I’m feeling old crushes become new loves  
>  Tears receding with the dawn of this new day.
> 
> “Who knew that in the wake  
>  of my struggle to survive  
>  I’d be blessed by feeling  
>  so very alive?
> 
> “I’m turning old crushes into new loves  
>  All the darkness chased away  
>  I’m feeling old crushes become new loves  
>  Tears receding with the dawn of this new day.
> 
> “You are the dawn of this new day.”

The last cords died, and Dean sat in silence, stunned.

***

Castiel frowned. It was almost nine o’clock, and he was not expecting visitors. He peered through the peep hole, then yanked open the door.

“Dean! What are you doing here? Is everything all right?”

Dean opened his mouth, staring at Castiel.

“Dean?”

“I listened to the CD.”

Castiel swallowed, “Did you like it?”

Dean stepped closer, hands coming up to cup Castiel’s face. “I loved it,” he whispered.

Then Dean was kissing him, sweeping Castiel away in something warm and vibrant and alive.

_If a kiss could be a sunrise…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Castiel has an extensive playlist for Dean (I really think Brand New by Ben Rector, Hold Each Other by Great Big World, and anything by Andy Grammer), but the songs that made it to the story are as follows:
> 
> Shake It Off - Taylor Swift  
> Here I Go Again - Whitesnake  
> Carry On, Wayward Son - Kansas
> 
> The songs credited to Castiel are written by me.
> 
> Thanks so much to everyone who commented and kudo-ed! I appreciate it!

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, um - I may not *need* comments and suggestions anymore, but I still like them? Like, REALLY like them.
> 
> I may have a problem.
> 
> Comment anyway. :-)


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